A Spring farm sit and lots of gardening

 

Well, we seem to be galloping through the year again at breakneck speed! Having told myself that I really ought to try and cut down on the jobs I do, I’ve just acquired a new gardening client! She lives in Wells quite near to the Cathedral and, as I weed away in the herbaceous borders, my time is marked off by the quarter jacks and the hourly chimes. It’s a small, pretty garden with a high wall to one side forming the boundary between her property and the Cathedral Music School, so I get serenaded as well. This wall has a beautiful rambling rose growing over it, fronted by a couple of acer trees in different colours, a Magnolia stellata and several smaller shrubs, and I am enjoying working in it enormously!

New client's garden

I have recently returned from the first of my Spring farm sits – this one at Dundry for the poultry, sheep, tortoises, cats and dogs. I realised when we talked about the ages of the dogs that I have been coming here for at least 11 years now, usually twice a year – it doesn’t seem possible that it has been that long!

When I arrived Sally was having a cuppa with a veterinary nurse that she’d known for many years and I thought, at first, that one of the cats must be unwell. However, she had just delivered two more tortoises to the menagerie, so now there were seven for me to look after! These two were younger than the others being 17 and 23 and my goodness they had big appetites – every lunchtime I was cutting up bananas, nectarines and lettuce, grating cucumber and lightly cooking broccoli and then watching over them all as they ate. This was because the two Labradors would have gulped down their food at one side of the house and then galloped round to the ‘tortoise lawn’ to finish off the tortoise picnic!

Hungry torties!

Spring was definitely in the air for the three male tortoises who spent most of the time, when they weren’t eating, trying to persuade the females to be more friendly! I can’t blame the females for declining their advances however, as tortoise courtship seems to involve biting legs and heads and some very aggressive shell battering! Hardly subtle!

A tray of eggs arranged my someone with mild OCD!

The weather, for much of my stay, was warm and sunny and I was able to finish creosoting a refurbished chicken house and do some work in the vegetable garden. We did have a couple of spectacular thunder storms with lots of rain, but they didn’t last long.

Sally warned me about a couple of aggressive cockerels and the cantankerous gander, who’d given her a very nasty bite on the hand that took weeks to heal and left a scar. Most of the poultry are fine but every year seems to throw up a couple of cockerels who are just too big for their breeches and will fly at you with beak and spurs outstretched! Needless to say I did not go into any of the runs without a large stick in my hand and, sometimes, the big fishing net that she uses to catch hens for any reason – they absolutely hate that and even the most pugnacious cockerel beats a hasty retreat when he sees it!

Another aspect of my stay is keeping the bird feeders topped up. There are multiple bird feeders hanging in the trees outside the kitchen window and they attract an amazing number of wild birds. I didn’t stand at the window for ages watching but I still managed to see at least three pairs of bullfinches, blue tits and great tits, goldfinches, chaffinches, robins and a pair of great spotted woodpeckers. There was also a nest box with a camera rigged up to the TV, so I was able to watch a pair of blue tits incubating their eggs, although they weren’t due to hatch until after I left. The female was such a busy little housewife, continually re-ordering her nest material and fidgeting about!

I had to leave before they got home from their holiday, as they’d been held up by a puncture and had to use their spare which can only be driven at 50mph – at least they had a spare, as I believe some modern cars don’t have them as standard!

The next morning, after unpacking and repacking my bag, I picked Jeni up from her house and drove to Cheltenham to spend the Coronation Weekend with Mum. Dave also came over from Northampton, so it was lovely for us all to be together and, while he cooked us a Sunday roast, Jeni and I took Mum to her favourite garden at North Cerney House where we had a short wander in the walled garden and then made our way to the bothy for tea and cake!

I’m due to go off for another farm sit this weekend – this time for the alpacas, but a couple of weeks ago I received a message from Sarah asking if I’d like to go and help with the alpaca shearing. I’d never seen alpacas shorn before so jumped at the opportunity and got there part way through the afternoon. They’d been shearing since 10.00am but with 25 animals to shear and each one taking about 20 minutes, plus the catching and tethering time, there was still plenty for me to see. You cannot shear an alpaca in the same way as a sheep as they are, physically, just too big, so the traditional method is to catch the animal and turn it onto its side, then tie its front legs together and its back legs together and then stretch it out between two stakes so that it is immobilised. It looks a bit brutal but is the only safe way for both the animal and the shearer and most of the alpacas were relatively sanguine about the experience. However, a couple got a bit stressed and I fully expected them to gallop off to the far side of the field as soon as they were released. Not a bit of it – they calmly got up, wandered off a little way and then came back to inspect the generator at close quarters and then to inspect the quality of the shearing of their fellows! You could almost hear one of them say “You’ve missed a bit!”. 😊 We finally finished at about 8pm and I was invited to stay for supper before driving home as the last light died from the sky.

Initial tethering

The shearing begins

Incredibly long fibres!

Looking slightly smaller!

Finally, coming right up to date, last Thursday afternoon I drove to Mum’s to do a bit of gardening for her and take her to a nursery on the other side of town to buy some bedding plants. On a whim we dropped in to see an old family friend who can’t get out anymore and had a lovely reminiscing chat with him for an hour or so. On Saturday morning I drove from Cheltenham to Northampton where I did a weekend’s gardening for Dave and we went to a local nursery to buy him some bedding plants, so his garden is now smart and summer ready. I drove home on Sunday evening, went to bed and got up on Monday morning ready to start on my next gardening job. Talk about a busman’s holiday!

Before...

... and after

Before ...

... and after

An Epic Walk!

Bristol Harbour with St Mary Redcliff in the background

My intention to write a monthly blog seems to be slipping! I hadn’t realised that it is six weeks since I last wrote something, and I really don’t have a good excuse. I sometimes find it very difficult to get into the right frame of mind to commit something to paper (or screen in this case) and can fully appreciate why professional writers experience a block occasionally. Telling myself that I really ought to write something just seems to make the situation worse and, if I try, there is no flow to the words.

After the brief disruption caused by winter weather in March, I managed to get to a couple of my clients the following week and start on the Spring tasks in their gardens. One client needed her raspberry canes moving to new beds and, first of all, I had to clear the new area which involved digging up some rogue ash saplings, a briar rose and a lot of deep-rooted nettles and then I could dig up the raspberry canes and hope that they wouldn’t notice that they’d been moved! I had a good look at them this morning and they all seem to be thriving – nothing ventured, nothing gained!

Buoyed up by my successful rambles whilst at Mum’s, I rashly suggested that my brother, Richard, and I should walk along a stretch of the Kennet and Avon Canal, as he enjoys walking. He took me up on this suggestion and Jeni agreed to come part of the way, too, so on Saturday, 18^th March we set off. Jeni came to my house, and we caught the bus from Glastonbury to Bristol sitting in the front seat upstairs so we could see the view. Rich had travelled down from London the night before and stayed in a Premier Inn close to the Bus Station so that’s where we met up.

The start of our epic walk!

From there we walked to the Floating Harbour and the ‘official’ start of our walk at the statue of Neptune. We were staying away for two nights in two separate hotels, so had to carry overnight requirements, clean clothes and wet weather gear, so my rucksack was quite bulky. The weather, contrary to our expectations, turned out to be unseasonably warm and sunny and we were soon as stripped down as far as we could be, without being indecent, and were still too hot!

The first part of the walk took us along the River Avon, through the heart of Bristol which looked so different from this perspective that it was difficult to get our bearings, and then out into the Conham River Park, which is a beautiful area and totally unexpected. By this time we could have murdered a sit down with a cold drink and an ice cream and got quite excited when one of the information boards promised a café ‘just around the corner’. What it failed to mention was that it was located on the opposite bank of the river and was only accessible by a small ferry which didn’t run until later in the year! We had bottles of water with us, but it wasn’t the same somehow.

An old brass mill

The whole of the valley at this point had been the site of major industrial mills, smelting copper and zinc ores from Cornwall, brought up the river on barges, and using coal from the Somerset Coal Field situated around Radstock and Midsomer Norton. It was very difficult to imagine that this beautiful, peaceful and green valley could ever have been filled with smoke, noxious fumes and the constant noise of brass foundries, but there were a few reminders in old mill buildings, some derelict and others converted to dwellings, that we saw along the way.

An abandoned chapel in the middle of a field

I had hoped that long-distance walking might be my ‘thing’ to build up my fitness levels into my more senior years, but I hadn’t factored in my dodgy back which began to play up after only a few miles of carrying my backpack. I found myself lagging behind the other two and wondering how I was going to make it to our first overnight stop at Saltford, midway between Bristol and Bath. My lovely brother then insisted on carrying my pack as well as his own huge one, by slinging it across his chest like a giant baby sling. My back was still painful but at least it wasn’t getting any worse.

My hero!

We’d started walking just after 11.00am and at just gone 2.00pm we had walked as far as The Old Lock and Weir pub at Hanham Mills, on the outskirts of Bristol. Luckily, they served food until 2.30, so we stopped for lunch and an ice-cold cider, sitting outside in the hot sunshine. 

Lunch stop Day 1

Suitably replenished we set off again and soon saw the old Fry’s Chocolate Factory at Keynsham. At first it appeared in front of us, slightly to the left, but the river does a large loop round at this point so, half an hour later it appeared on our right hand side! A bit further on we met up with the cycle track that has been created along the old railway line from Bath to Bristol and, as it cut off another huge loop in the river, we decided to follow that to Saltford and the end of Day 1. At this point the cycle path runs alongside the Avon Valley Railway, a preserved stretch of track, so as we had heard the engine whistle a little way up the track we just had to wait for it to come chuffing past!

Obligatory steam engine shot!

My sister had suggested that a hot water bottle might be a good idea to take with me, if my back got painful, so not only did my backpack have nightwear, a complete change of clothes (for when we got soaked to the skin in the rain that we’d anticipated), waterproof outer layer (including over trousers), a book to read before settling down to sleep (otherwise my head doesn’t switch off), and a bottle of water, but a hot water bottle as well! I thought I was travelling light! Imagine my surprise when we were shown into our room at The Riverside Inn to find that hot water bottles were provided! Jeni looked after her decrepit old mum by filling the hot water bottle for me and making a much-needed cup of tea while I clambered, thankfully, onto the (very comfortable) bed and sat there until dinnertime with wonderful warmth at the base of my spine.

End of Day 1 - that cider tasted so good!

We met up with Rich at 7pm for dinner and then decided we were all so tired that we’d just go back to our rooms and meet up for breakfast the next morning. I think we’d put the light off by 9.30!

The next morning we were greeted by another warm and sunny day and the hot water bottle had done the trick (I’d slept with it on my back most of the night!) also Rich insisted on carrying my backpack from the start, so I felt much better physically but mentally very guilty! It wasn’t very far from Saltford to Bath and we were soon on the outskirts of the city. Jeni had originally planned to leave us at Bath and travel home by bus, but she was enjoying herself so much that she decided to come the rest of the way with us, which was wonderful.

The canal proper starts at Bath

Up until now we had been following the River Avon which, although it had a few locks on it, was still not completely canalised but, in Bath, the Canal becomes a separate entity and rises up from the river level by a short series of locks. At this point the canal architecture becomes very flamboyant in style to fit in with Regency Bath. 

The old pumping station chimney

At the top of the locks was all that remained of a pumping station – a very ornate chimney, and there were some beautiful stone bridges arching gracefully over the canal as it passed through the Sydney Gardens. The views over Bath at this point were stunning as tier upon tier of regency houses, in mellow Bath stone, climbed up the hillsides. However, the large hill at Bathampton meant that we walked a huge distance around it as the canal follows the contours rather than goes up and over, making a big loop round it to the north.

Beautiful, elegant Sydney Gardens

The day got hotter and hotter and my feet in my waterproof walking boots felt as if they were on fire plus I could feel a blister forming on my little toe. By the time we reached the beautiful Dundas Aqueduct at Monkton Combe (another triumph of architecture designed by the canal architect, John Rennie) I was again lagging behind and limping. However, I couldn’t fail to be uplifted by the sight of colourful narrow boats moored almost nose-to-tail at this point and a heron catching his lunch on the far bank. We also saw a cormorant and a buzzard sitting side-by-side in a canal side tree.

The Dundas Aqueduct

We finally limped in to Limpley Stoke where we were staying at the Hotel of the same name and trudged up the driveway. What I hadn’t realised when I’d booked it, was that it was a rather grand place albeit slightly faded in its grandeur, and we were dressed in very casual clothes and extremely muddy boots! We took our boots off at the front door and padded to Reception in our stockinged feet, but the chap on reception was completely unphased and readily changed my double room to a twin-bedded one as Jeni was extra to my initial booking. Again Jeni looked after me, making a cup of tea and running a bath in which I wallowed for quite some time. We reconvened in the hotel bar where we decided to stay and eat as it was quite comfortable and had a cosy atmosphere. Again, we were so tired that we ate, drank and went straight to bed.

Initially, I’d planned a Day 3 walking with my brother to Trowbridge via Bradford-on-Avon and crossing the Avoncliff Aqueduct. From there he was going to catch the train back to London and I was going to get Jeni to pick me up or spend several hours travelling a tortuous route from Trowbridge to Glastonbury, by bus. However, the blisters on my feet meant that walking anywhere was out of the question so, after a hearty Full English breakfast we parted company – Rich to continue on alone and Jeni and I to catch the bus home. The bus route from Limpley Stoke to Bath Bus Station more or less followed the route we had walked the day before and it was quite galling to realise that what had taken us several hours to negotiate took just over ten minutes by bus!

It began raining as we travelled homewards and the weather deteriorated quite dramatically over the next few days which made our slightly sunburned faces look quite incongruous. Apart from feeling a bit of a physical wreck, I also felt quite proud of myself for completing 34 kilometres (approximately 22 miles) in 2 days and would still like to continue the walk from where we left off, at some point, but with little or no luggage and cooler footwear!

Journey's End - the view at Limpley Stoke

Early Spring Blog

 

Snowdrops in Whittington Churchyard

Well, so much for hoping for more Spring-like weather! Yesterday there was snow and the country descended into its usual turmoil of cancelled buses and trains and closed schools. I don’t really know what’s changed but, when I was at school, I don’t remember them ever closing except, perhaps, in the harsh winter of 1963. All I can remember about that was trying to push Dad’s car up our precipitously steep driveway so that he could go to work! At Junior school the break-time milk would be frozen almost solid and quite often had the foil tops pecked open by bluetits, and at Senior school we had open corridors around two quadrangles which sometimes had mini snow drifts that we had to scuff through to get to class where we would stand, shivering, outside the classrooms until the bell rang allowing us to enter the comparative warmth.

Luckily, we had no snow whilst I was still in Cheltenham, although there were several days of heavy frost and raw winds, which prevented us from going outside much. Consequently, I got quite a lot of knitting done and read several books.

Colourful knitted socks

A toddler's jacket

 However, following on from my 'accidental' long walk, and on a bright but chilly day, I decided to set forth on another ramble. I had no clear idea where I was headed but thought I might go to the other side of the village where we’d lived when I was growing up and out towards the small hamlet, called Ham, where I used to go quite often as a child. Having got there and still feeling quite fresh, I decided to replicate, at least in part, a walk that I had last done about 55 years ago with my sister and some friends, up Ham Hill towards the village of Whittington. I thought I’d cut that walk short and come down by the side of the old reservoir, out onto the main A40 and back into the village that way, but I hadn’t taken a map with me (I know, I could have an app on my phone, but I haven’t!) and couldn’t decide which of the footpaths was the correct one, so I carried on walking. Ham Hill seemed a lot steeper than I remembered and Whittington seemed to have moved a few more miles away, but I finally got there and had a brief rest on a bench on the village green, where I phoned Mum and told her I might be a bit late for lunch!

Whittington Old Schoolhouse

The reason that we had gone to Whittington all those years ago was to do a brass rubbing in the church. Neither my sister nor I can now remember why we were doing brass rubbings, but it was quite a ‘thing’ back then, so much so that most churches have since covered their brasses (which are usually set in the floor of the nave or chancel) with carpeting to protect them from over-vigorous rubbing! I decided to see if ‘our’ brass was still uncovered and was delighted that the church was unlocked. It’s a tiny church nestled under the protection of the large manor house and almost up against its walls, but inside was a mini treasure trove of historical church artefacts: by the entrance was a 12th century font, the 16th century brass was still uncovered on the floor of the chancel and there was not one, but three, stone effigies. Two were of a father and son who were both crusaders in the 13^th and 14^th centuries and the third was of an unknown, unnamed female relative (typical!). 

16th Century brass plaque

13th Century crusader

14th Century crusader

The unknown female relative!

They were all in surprisingly good condition for their age and beautifully carved. At the back of the church, on two pillars facing each other, were the carved heads of a man and a woman dating from the 15^th century. I know I’ve said this before, but I am always awestruck by the care and skill that has gone into the building of even the most humble church, but mainly by the intricacies of the stonemason’s carvings.

15th Century female figure

15th Century male figure

 Outside, amongst the ancient chest tombs, was a profusion of snowdrops in full bloom, and a couple of ancient yew trees. Apparently, in the field opposite was the site of the medieval village and also, a Roman villa, so this is a very ancient settlement. A couple of days later I took Mum for a drive to see the snowdrops and revisit an area that she hadn't been to for some years.

one of the ancient yew trees

The walk home was not quite so pleasant as I had to walk along the side of the busy A40 for quite some distance. As I descended the long sweeping curve of road I tried to see any signs of the old Dowdeswell Viaduct that used to span the valley to my left, but nothing seemed to be remain of this once majestic sight that used to be a childhood marker of 'almost home'. At last I managed to divert onto a footpath around the reservoir, which is now a nature reserve, emerging onto the main road further down where there was a proper metalled footpath, back into the village. This time I had managed to walk 8.5 miles without any major physical issues, which was wonderful.

The viaduct in its heyday

Later in February I returned home for a weekend to check on my little house and also to help with tree/hedge planting on the new length of cycle path that a team of volunteers have been clearing. Jeni and I were handed a bunch of dogwood ‘whips’ and shown where and how they should be planted. We’d gone armed with spades and a mattock but hadn’t reckoned on how stony the bit of ground was that we had been assigned. Both of us took turns to swing the mattock, but it was hot, wrist- and arm-jarring work and we were soon quite tired. I think we must have been trying to plant into the base of an old wall as there were so many stones, wherever we dug, but we managed to plant about 24 whips in two different locations before we decided we’d had enough and sloped off to reward ourselves with a rather nice lunch at a café in Shepton Mallet. More planting has since been done – we got guelder rose and hazel to plant the next time – and this bit of cycle path is due to be officially opened tomorrow. It was great to see how many people are already using it to walk dogs, ride bikes (and horses) and we even saw an elderly man on his mobility scooter who was thrilled to be able to get out into an area of countryside more easily. It is going to be amazing, once it links up with bits further along the old Strawberry Line.

Hedge planting on the new cycle path

On my way back to Cheltenham once again, I came cross-country from Tetbury on one of my favourite bits of road - you never quite know what you are going to see along this stretch. I have seen hares, buzzards, a fox, red kites as well as lots of wild flowers, in their season, and this time I was not disappointed. Just past a particular farm I noticed a white van pulled over on the verge and the driver was standing on the top step with his phone camera out, so I pulled up a bit further along and had a look to see what he was photographing. Imagine my delight when I saw a small herd of deer! I waited until he drove off and then reversed back to his vantage point, so that I could get a better shot. It appeared to be a small herd of male fallow deer, just grazing, quite unconcernedly, in the field at the side of the road. Wonderful!

Male fallow deer

Further along the same road I came across two chaps rebuilding an old dry stone wall and stopped to admire their handiwork. They were really pleased that I’d stopped for a chat and were quite happy for me to take some photos and I was really pleased to see young people doing such an age-old job. Once finished, their wall should last for a hundred years or so – what a legacy!

The drystone wallers

The beautiful wall in progress

I also managed to get to see two old friends whilst I was still at Mum’s – my school friend, Mads, who lives in Royal Wootton Bassett and Carol, a childhood friend, who lives near Stroud. Both days were spent chatting and reminiscing and were very good for the soul, although I seemed to be very hoarse on the day after! Carol took me for a walk in the woods with her two dogs; one is a cross between a Labrador and a Bernese Mountain Dog, and the other is a Golden Doodle, which is, apparently, a cross between a Labradoodle (Labrador x Standard Poodle) and a Golden Retriever! It was a very energetic walk, up a very steep hill, and I was soon panting and gasping and exhorting her to go on and leave me behind! She’s only a year younger than me but made me feel ancient as she strode away with hardly a change in her breathing. At that point I decided that I must do something about my aerobic fitness, even if it means taking such a drastic step as getting another dog! (Cue both my children sending me links to dog rescue sites and cute pictures of unwanted pooches!)

I have now returned to Somerset so that I can start the new gardening year with my clients. I did manage one day this week and was quite glad that rain and snow stopped any more, as I was quite tired after three hours. Not to worry, I’m sure I’ll soon be back to a good level of fitness, once the better weather comes.

As always, take care everyone, keep warm and snug and look out for the emerging signs of Spring. x

Hibernating!

Old Man's Beard

 Happy New Year to all my loyal readers!

Although it has only been a month, Christmas seems to have happened ages ago! Jeni and I had a long, but uneventful journey from Somerset to Sheffield arriving in time for lunch on Christmas Eve. This year the whole family was together and we had the addition of my brother’s partner’s mother on Christmas Day, so we were quite a gathering. Much eating and drinking took place over the three days that we were there and we all returned home with a share of the leftovers! In fact, we were having such a good time that I don’t think anyone remembered to take any photos!

I was only back at home for a few days before I repacked the car and headed back to Cheltenham to spend New Year and most of January with my Mum. This arrangement seems to work well for both of us, providing company at an otherwise quiet time of the year: I don’t start gardening again until the beginning of March and, sometimes, bad weather curtails Mum’s social life (which is much better than mine!), plus it means that I can be on hand to take Mum to any appointments that she may have without her having to rely on public transport or taxis.

On days when the weather is bright, we can often be found trundling slowly around the neighbourhood for an ‘airing’ but with the very cold, icy conditions that we’ve had recently, we are more likely to be doing crosswords or reading and, in my case, knitting! I have knitted a few pairs of socks to replenish my depleted stocks and am now knitting a child’s jacket, as I sold a couple of those before Christmas, as well.

I always chide myself for being ‘lazy’ at this time of the year but, as a friend pointed out, it is how Nature’s cycle works – plants and animals slow down, sleep a lot and wait for the warmer Spring weather, so I am only getting closer to my ‘natural’ self! I rather like that idea, although my body does seem to stiffen up more alarmingly with each passing season of inactivity. This year, to try and combat my body seizing up entirely, I have brought my yoga mat with me and am trying to do a short Pilates work out at least every other day, plus working on my balance, too. My Pilates teacher would be very pleased with me and, hopefully, when I go back to classes in March I won’t feel as if I’ve never done it before!

Green Woodpecker

Ant Hunting!

One of the things that Mum and I enjoy doing is watching the birds on the feeders. I bought some sunflower hearts and a suet block to add to the existing fat balls and bird seed and we have been rewarded by visiting flocks of goldfinch and long-tailed tits. On one day we also had a visit from the jay and a green woodpecker who spent ages on the lawn probing for ants. I wondered what else they ate as I would have thought that ants were a bit scarce at this time of the year, but the RSPB website just says ‘ants, ants and more ants’, so I guess that’s all they eat. There is a very quick young black and white cat that visits the garden and hides in the shrubs before dashing out to chase the birds and I have found evidence of two ‘kills’ on the lawn, so I take great pleasure in leaping from my seat, flinging open the patio door and yelling ‘Clear off, you b****r!’ at it. It has now learned to check the patio door for movement before crossing the grass and disappearing, at speed, through a hole in the fence! Note to all the cat-lovers: I quite like cats, really, but I hate them catching birds.

The ford at Spring Bottom

The Pooh-stick bridge at Spring Bottom

Some days I have been out for longer walks, without Mum, and have pounded the lanes around the area. When I was growing up here the area could still be classed as a village, with its own Urban District Council and a degree of autonomy, but it is now very much a suburb of Cheltenham. It is actually a lot more well-to-do as than it used to be as the local school is high up in the league tables and the house prices have risen exponentially. Charlton Kings had very humble beginnings as it was mainly an agricultural settlement, but when Cheltenham started to take off as a fashionable Spa town it became the centre of the laundry industry for all of the big houses and hotels that sprang up. This industry is reflected in a couple of old street names: Lyefield Road and Sappercombe Lane and there is an area of open land that is still known as the Laundry Field. The whole area is criss-crossed with small lanes and footpaths that probably provided access for the washerwomen to the drying fields, and these still run behind the houses on the new estates which means that I can go for quite a distance without having to walk along roads. They can feel quite mysterious being only a few feet wide and usually enclosed between high fences, walls and hedges and are obviously used as pathways by the local foxes as I can often detect their scent hanging in the still air. I was interested to know what these types of pathways were called in other areas of the country as, in Somerset, they are often known as ‘drangs’ and, as children in Charlton Kings, we referred to them as ‘avers’. It turns out that there are quite a few regional variations from ‘ginnels’, ‘snickets’ and ‘entries’ in the North to ‘jittys’ and ‘jennels’ in Nottingham, and ‘twittens’ in Kent. However, they don’t seem to have stayed completely regional as we had a Twitchens Lane in the Somerset village that I used to live in, and my ex (Somerset born and bred) used to say of someone with bandy legs ‘he couldn’t stop a pig in an entry’. I would be interested to know if any of you call them something different again.

Drang, twitten or aver?

Old path with original metal railings

A couple of days ago I ended up walking much further than I’d anticipated. I had no clear idea of where I was heading but ended up walking up an old sunken trackway onto the hill above the village. Initially I thought I would walk down the other side and come out near my old childhood home, but I missed the footpath and ended up climbing another hill and coming out on the Gloucester to Andoversford road that runs along the edge of the Cotswold escarpment. From there I walked back to the junction with the Cheltenham to Cirencester road that crosses it at right angles and then back along a further footpath before dropping back down the hill and coming out on the main road a mile or so from Mum’s. The sun was going down, the temperature was plummeting and I was footsore and weary by the time I got back! The next day, with the aid of an Ordnance Survey map and a piece of thread (a method I was taught in Physical Geography at school -thank you Miss Edwards!) I worked out how far I’d actually walked and was disappointed to discover that it was only five miles, but it was all up and down hill, so was probably further really! It was worth the climb, though, as the view over Cheltenham was spectacular but a bit hazy towards the Malvern Hills.

Cheltenham from Wistley Hill

I am going home every couple of weeks to check on my little house and also attend appointments and catch up with Jeni, and when I went back last time it was after we'd had days of torrential rain. I was glad I went home in daylight as the amount of surface water was horrendous and at several points the water was pouring off the fields onto the roads and we were all having to be very courteous and allow people to negotiate the flood waters one car at a time, keeping to the crown of the road to prevent  being inundated. When I looked out of my dining room window I was surprised by how flooded the moors were - it was very easy to visualise Glastonbury as being the island it once was. I guess if sea levels rise as predicted, it may well be an island again!

Flooded moors!

I hope you are all managing to stay warm and cosy and, by the next time I write, perhaps the weather will be warmer and there will be some more Spring flowers out.

Early snowdrops in Mum's rockery